Compromise
by leeloo6
Summary: L/Light, plotless smut. L's POV.


I think I heard him sing today. It was a silent humming, silent enough for no one but myself to hear it. Perhaps it wasn't intentional, I couldn't really tell, but I know that the expression on his face in that moment was something rare and almost precious, of a contemplative innocence that I knew him incapable of. But now, as his fingers are pulling at my hair with a passion dangerously close to violence while he's pinning me on the wall with his own body as if he's trying to break me through, I decide I prefer this slightly less harmless version of him.

We always play this little game. He likes to think he's in control and I let him, even if only for a bit, because I know how it feels when you don't know who you are. He's trying to grasp anything,_ everything_, from universal truths to subtleties in my speech, he's trying to take charge and control and rebuild himself or perhaps he just wants to forget that he forgot, because there's nothing more confusing than losing your identity.

I understand and I let him and he knows that I do, because when the roles are reversed and he's the one on the wall he doesn't protest or try to claim me back. He gives in and I can almost feel the resignation in his gestures, the air of half-sadness, half-apathy that surrounds him and some would stop, but I've long quit the idea of tending feelings of a more human nature and I only deepen the kiss, running my fingers along his spine, digging in, getting closer until there is no more air between us. I feel like swallowing him whole, embracing his entire being and melting him into myself until all the fascination would stop, but instead I lead him towards the bed with undisguised urgency and perhaps frustration at how limited our possibilities as humans are.

He complies and there are no traces of romance as he pulls me down and wraps his legs around me, biting at my neck until it hurts. I turn away and in a moment's rush I slip one finger in his mouth, feeling the warmth of him as I take pleasure in his surprise. His eyes widen for a second but then he adapts and his tongue curls around my finger. He closes his eyes and slowly starts sucking on it while I watch, unsure of what exactly I'm doing, but feeling the heat spread in my body as I realise just how much I love seeing him like this. I kiss him and a sly smile changes his features, he looks at me as if he knows my darkest secrets and I can almost feel him whispering in my ear, luring, threatening to tear me apart when this is all over, and I almost, _almost_ believe him.

It is exactly the 7th night when we're doing this, but he still shivers under my touch as I trail my way down his torso, fingers and nails and tongue, with the chain long forgotten besides the bed. I promise myself to make better use of it sometime and smile against his skin at the thought. I unzip his pants and the way he impatiently pushes my head down while squirming around shows just how desperate I can really make him. When I finally take him in my mouth with a swift motion he moans hoarsely and arches his back, pushing deeper. I dig my fingers in his hips and the lovely little sounds that he makes are enough to drive me off the edge. I make it fast and efficient, his hands become fists in my hair, keeping me there as if he'd die if i dare stop and this is certainly not who I am, but it's who I am _right now_.

I doubt he could go any further in my throat and the suffocation feels deliciously wonderful. The fists in my hair are starting to hurt but then he finishes with a feral sound that makes my spine shiver with pleasure. I separate from him and in the darkness I can't see him, but I can hear his rapid breathing and imagine, only imagine his flushed face and his sweaty auburn hair and think, _I was the one who did that_. I lie beside him and wait for the wave to subside.

But there isn't enough time to breathe until he climbs on top of me in another attempt at dominance, hovering over my lips for a moment- I can feel his smile, and I smile back, knowing that he'll know- and then descending, caressing skin lightly and pulling down my jeans with a slowness that resembles slow agony. He teases me, stroking and licking and I almost let out a whimper, but self-control wins as I remember to breathe. As much as I'd love for him to continue, this is a piece of control that I simply can't allow, so I turn him over and climb on top of him instead, kissing him with the same thirst that I'm being answered with. He's still stroking me gently, teasingly and I suck on his neck, feeling the blood in his vein, running my fingers through his hair as if he's the most beautiful thing in the world and maybe, just maybe he really is.

But then his hand starts moving faster, he claims my mouth with violence and the frantic rhythm of it all makes my blood boil and my mind go blank- I can feel him smile at the muffled sounds I make against his mouth and I know they have the same effect on him as his have on me, because he's already hardening again under me. Or maybe it's just the domination- he knows that in this moment I'm at his mercy.

He grabs my hips and presses me down, starting to move in a circular motion that makes me want to have him right then without any more games, but then he makes the mistake of trying to get on top again and one second is enough for me to run a fast check on my mind. I decide that it's still there, and that it needs to be used, so I fight him and he fights back and he's really determined to win this time. Bites and stolen kisses rival with kicks and we land on the floor, his hands pinning mine and the cold steel of the long forgotten handcuffs beneath me. Moonlight is enough to make his features visible and his eyes are fixing mine with a mixture of lust and power that makes me wish, only for a moment, that I would play the submissive part more often.

'What are you doing?' I ask as if I couldn't care less, in a mock-tone and smiling at him through the dark.

'Enjoying my victory', he answers with a smile to match, and he presses his lips to mine in a gesture that wants itself to be a chaste kiss, but between us could be nothing else than parody.

'I don't think so,' I whisper and I wrap one leg around him, turning him over and grabbing the handcuffs in the process. He delivers a kick right at my stomach and we end up on the bed again, pushing and tumbling in a completely useless fashion until I manage to grab both his wrists and pin them up, wrapping the unnecessarily long chain around his hands. He throws a wild look in my direction and still squirms under me, but I make sure his legs can't move while I click the handcuffs on his hands, unwrapping the chain from his wrists and wrapping it again on the panel of the bed.

'It seems I won again,' I whisper in his ear.

'I'm tired of your stupid little power games. Just do it.' He's annoyed, he hates it that he lost- how typical. I take a moment to look at him and the dim moonlight makes him pale and even more beautiful, almost inhuman. He always is, but now he's chained to the bed, vulnerable by my will, not by his choice and _mine_, all mine. I enter two fingers to prepare him and he cringes deliciously under me while my tongue explores every inch of skin on his stomach. This time will be different. I start moving my fingers rhytmically and ascend until my mouth finds his, he opens up and the frantic movement of our tongues hold him from letting out the moans I know he'd release. I want more, definitely more, so I add another finger and he arches his back, moaning in what could be either pleasure or pain. Or both, yes, most probably both, I think before I take my fingers out and replace them with my full length in one swift move. I enter him fully and he arches back with a groan that drives me off edge. I start fucking him with rapid moves, forgetting all about the restraint I imposed on myself for this session. We're all only human, after all. He squirms under me and I know he would clutch at the sheets, if only his hands were free. His eyes are closed shut and every time I enter him roughly, he either bites at his lower lip or tries to restrain a moan or lets it out or screams- oh, how I love those- and everything that we both want is right there and then. I regain my composure and slow down, emphasizing on every single move, penetrating him with delayed motion while my eyes never leave his eyes, now half-open in sultry pleasure.

'Tired already?' he asks in a husky voice and he curls his lips in a lazy smile.

'Oh, no. That would be a pity, wouldn't it?' I answer, still I continue moving at an achingly slow pace for us and start stroking his member, earning a long gutural sound as a response.

'Look at me.' And he looks. I want him to be _there_, to feel every ounce of control that I have over him. His gaze is defiant, despite the obvious distraction that makes his eyelids fall heavy and his eyes shiny with arousal. He's looking at me, because I challenged him to, and it's a delight to see him try to control his reactions as I pick up the pace. Half-whimpers and bites and sometimes, when it's too much and he doesn't want me to _see_ him like that, so submissive, even though we've both agreed to this game, he looks away for a second or he closes his eyes, releasing the control for a bit.

Other times he just glowers at me through the darkness, or at least tries to, and it's such a delight to see him try to frown while there are more obvious things that he's thinking of right then. He tries to seem angry, to save an ounce of his pride, but my gaze disquiets him and when I capture his mouth with mine he does nothing but give in and quietly admit it to himself while half-frowining, admit that he wants this as much as I do, he wants _me_ inside him in all ways possible because I'm the only one who could ever understand.

He finishes in the most delightful way, clutching at me for dear life, leaving trails on my back where his fingernails dug in and on my neck where he bites me sharply, sending a decisive shiver through my entire body. I collapse on top of him, breathless and consumed and perhaps feeling more alive than I've ever felt before. In these moments, I allow myself to forget everything about justice and injustice and kings and queens because crushing Raito is worth more than any earthly concept is.

I run my fingers through his hair and he bites my neck again, chuckling softly as I protest against the sudden pain.

'I've never hated anyone as much as I hate you, you know that,' he says and all playfulness from his voice is gone, leaving it an empty, concrete sound which speaks nothing but the truth.

Of course. Of course I know. And that doesn't change anything- at least not now, while he's still innocent, while the worst thing that we can do to each other is nothing but a game, while his body is under mine and his resistance is nothing but weak protest.

I bury my face in his hair and whisper 'I hate you too,' even though I don't, waiting for the voices to die with a dying fall.


End file.
